


your love is conscience (and clarity and hope)

by orphan_account



Series: in love with you (so hopelessly and painlessly) [6]
Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and some smut, handjob, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:05:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stands for about 5 more seconds before he realizes he fucking colonized Mars, if he wants some time with his boyfriend, then Mark will damn well get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your love is conscience (and clarity and hope)

The party is dull, even for Mark’s taste and his collar itches.

He can’t find Chris or the rest of the crew and he’s surrounded by much, much older women and their prying eyes. Mark shifts uncomfortably and puts down his wine glass, getting up.

“Excuse me, ladies.” He says politely, weaving through to group of women and towards the back of the room. The hallway is dimly lit and seemingly empty.

Mark runs a hand through his hair and scans the room for his crew. He spots Lewis with her husband and Beth, busy in their own chatter and Chris, who’s standing with a tall man. Mark approaches them and throws Chris a casual smile, nodding in the direction of the tall man.

“So you’re Mark Watney?” The tall man drawls, an annoyingly airy look about him. His mouth is pursed slightly and one of his eyebrows is raised just barely.

“Pleasure to meet you…?”

The man fills the gap in Mark’s words, “James Harris.”

“Pleasure to meet you, James.” Mark says as politely as he can, sticking his hand out. James grasps it just barely and turns back to Chris, smiling broadly.

“As I was saying, Chris, I think it’s quite courageous to be a doctor, out in space!” He carries out his last few words and Chris flushes slightly, obviously pleased with the compliment.

Their entire crew is known to the world but no one thinks of the doctor before they think of the fearless leader or the man who survived on Mars.

“Thanks, James.” He says sincerely and Mark almost gags.

Chris and him decided to keep their relationship private, but it’s times like these when Mark wishes he could just yell it out to the world. He stands awkwardly, wanting Chris’s attention but also not wanting to disrupt the dry conversation – which consists of James (the snobbish asshole) saying something and Chris awkwardly thanking him.

He stands for about 5 more seconds before he realizes he fucking colonized Mars, if he wants some time with his boyfriend, then Mark will damn well get it.

“Excuse us,” he says quickly, taking Chris’s arm and steering him out of James’ view and into the lone hallway.

“Mark, what the hell?” Chris says, bothered by Mark’s terrible manners but also confused.

“Pay attention to me.” Mark mumbles and it almost sounds like a whine. Chris stops him at that, mouth curving into a slight smile.

“James was quite the character.” Mark says and Chris hums in agreement, “I don’t know what he was hoping to gain with all those compliments.”

Mark shrugs, “you deserve them, though. You’re pretty fucking cool.” He grins and Chris cocks his head to the side, eyes observing.

They’re standing just at the end of the hall now, by a fancy looking painting. The only sources of lighting are the lamps perched on the tables that dot the side of the wall.

Chris’ eyes glitter in the mellow light, a crystal slate of grey and blue. Mark sighs, prodding Chris towards the side of the wall and burying his face in his neck. He breathes in, deeply and slowly, inhaling Chris and his fruity cologne, the stupid shit he insisted smelled good. Mark didn’t believe him when he bought it but every time Chris puts it on, it smells like fucking heaven.

“Mhm, you smell good.” He mutters and Chris’ chest shakes with a silent chuckle.

“Thanks, babe.” Chris runs a hand through Mark’s hair and over his shoulders.

“Why are we standing here?” He asks after a couple minutes of awkward wall cuddling and Mark looks up.

“Because, I spend 90 percent of my thoughts thinking about how to make you scream and I can’t do it out in front of James the asslicker now can I?” He growls, leaning down against Chris’ ear. He puffs out a short breath against Chris’ neck, watching the goosebumps rise.

“Mark…” Chris mumbles, the hands he has on Mark’s shoulders tightening their grip.

He nips lightly at the lobe of Chris’ ear, using his knee to grind between Chris’ thighs, pulling a slight moan from Chris’ mouth.

“Jesus, Mark, we’re in public.” Chris hisses, voice thickening when Mark sucks on his earlobe, biting it gently.

“Nah, babe, there’s no one here.” He uses one hand to reach down, palming Chris through his dress pants. Chris moans again, slumping against Mark’s shoulder and grinding back just barely into the heel of Mark’s palm.

If Mark could do shit on Earth without consequences, he’d strip Chris right now and take him against the fucking wall. But since he can’t, he sucks harshly on Chris’ neck and rubs his half hard dick until Chris squirms.

“My brave doctor.” Mark whispers, for Chris’ ears only. It pulls a broken cry from Chris, muffled into Mark’s shoulder. Mark’s fingers twitch as he unbuttons Chris’ pants, hand snaking into his boxers and giving his dick a tug.

Chris’ hands scramble against Mark’s back, slipping endlessly because of the silkiness of the material, mouth damp against Mark’s shoulder. He swipes his thumb over Chris’ slit, fingers skimming the underside and dragging the tips of his fingers along his shaft. It’s messy, precome dribbles onto Mark’s palm and over Chris’ boxers.

Chris thrusts his hips, shallow and lacking finesse, whimpering softly against Mark’s shoulder. He can sense when Chris’ about to come by the pull of his abdomen, so Mark ruts against Chris’ thigh, groaning lowly. The heat from between their bodies is slick and Chris whines when Mark tugs him fast, using the precome to drag his hand up and down. 

“Mark, I’m gonna, Jesus –” Chris comes like that, pliant and beautiful with a low cry.

Mark strokes him through, pulling his sticky hand from between their bodies when Chris squirms. He ruts up to Chris’ thigh frantically, grabbing at his hips and gripping tightly. Chris sighs, sated, and ruts his thigh to meet Mark’s clothed dick.

It doesn’t take long for Mark to come, slumping over Chris, who thankfully, holds Mark until he can stand again. He wipes his hand on the underside of his jacket, both disgusted with himself and also too lazy to do much else.

“I think we should go.” Mark suggests with a chuckle and Chris smiles lazily.

“Do you now, Mr. Watney?” Chris drawls and Mark nods, as if serious.

“My apartment is new, and it needs christening.” Mark says seriously and Chris nods solemnly.

“Then lets go, my good doctor, the night is still young.” He grasps Chris’s hand with his clean one, squeezing it briefly.

They let go and stride out from the hallway, bumping sides.

As if they were a secret and somehow not quite.

**Author's Note:**

> i really needed to write this ship!  
> no other reason tbh.


End file.
